


Too Fearful

by loves_books



Series: Halloween In Oxford [1]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Lewis Frightfest 2015, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robbie tells Lizzie there isn’t much that scares James. James thinks that Robbie has no idea at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Fearful

**Author's Note:**

> With huge and grateful thanks to Owlbsurfinbird for being my beta reader, particularly for being so honest when suggesting what worked and what really didn't work.

James smiles his thanks as he accepts the offered pint from Robbie, and waits until the other man settles opposite him at the table with his own beer before they take a long, grateful drink almost in unison. Sitting between them, Lizzie takes a sip from her glass of red wine and sighs contentedly, the three of them looking out quietly at the setting sun over the river as they unwind from yet another long day.

The weather is surprisingly mild for the tail-end of October, and James is quite comfortable for now in just his normal jacket and thin scarf, though they’ll all probably move inside as the evening draws on. There’s no Halloween party planned in this particular pub, thank goodness, so James suspects they’ll probably end up getting dinner, and Robbie has hinted that Laura may even join them at some point.

“I’m really, really glad we’re not on call tonight,” Lizzie comments with feeling, and Robbie laughs at the expression on her face while James just smiles at his DS, lighting up another cigarette rather than replying.

“Halloween in Oxford is always an interesting time of year,” Robbie comments mildly, shooting James a particularly pointed look. James bites his tongue: ‘interesting’ is certainly one way to put it. Last year, he’d ended up arresting a ‘werewolf’ for killing a ‘zombie’. The resultant jokes had followed him around for months. “Every copper should experience it at least once, I reckon, but you’ll have next year. Students get up to all sorts of odd things. It can be a bit scary, and decidedly strange, in lots of different ways.”

“Oh, I can just imagine.” By unspoken agreement, though, they aren’t talking about work tonight, and there is a short pause before Lizzie asks Robbie playfully, “So, it’s Halloween. Ghosts and ghouls and things that go bump in the night. What are you scared of, Sir? If you don’t mind me asking.”

James downs half his pint in one go, curious to see what Robbie will say in response. The other man shrugs once, and smiles, before answering, “I don’t mind you asking, lass, but I’m fairly predictable me. Not overly fond of facing down a room full of delegates when I’m forced to give a bloody speech, but not much really scares me anymore, apart from the thought of losing someone I care about.” Bright blue eyes lock with James’s across the table, and James feels the warmth in that gaze, knowing he is included in that last statement. “Same for your governor over there, I think. Not much scares your boss.”

James holds Robbie’s gaze for a moment, shaking his head as he just smiles back without comment. Robbie really has no idea, and James doesn’t have the words to even attempt to explain.

He’s scared he doesn’t know enough, and that he never will. For all his book knowledge and his years of experience, he’s scared he won’t be quick enough, one day, and that someone will be murdered or injured or lost because he is too stupid or too slow.

He’s scared he isn’t good enough.

‘Why do you always have to be better?’ Robbie had asked him once, years ago, and James still doesn’t know the answer. But he does have to be better. He always has to be better. It doesn’t matter why.

James isn’t scared of being murdered or injured himself, though perhaps he should be. Those risks come with the job, after all, this job of theirs that grows more violent by the day.

He isn’t scared of death or dying; he’s seen too much of both to hold any real fear of either. But he is scared of what comes after, if he’s being completely honest with himself.

He’s also scared that there is actually nothing afterwards, and that this one little life is all they have.

“There’s a rumour at the station that you’re a bit scared of modern technology, sir,” Lizzie tells Robbie with a smirk. “Not that I listen to rumours, of course.”

James huffs a laugh as Robbie straightens indignantly at that. “Bloody short-term memories, the lot of them,” he grumbles. “I was an acknowledged expert, me. One of the first to have all the training back when we got computers.”

That’s true, James knows that for a fact, and Lizzie actually looks impressed. Still, he can’t resist chiming in with a teasing comment. “How many centuries ago was that then, Robert?”

“Ah, give over, man.” Just as he’d expected, Robbie takes the joking in stride. “Not my fault if it’s all Blackcherries and apples, and androids and jellybeans now.” There’s a glint in Robbie’s eye that tells James the other man knows exactly what he’s referring to, though now Lizzie doesn’t look quite so convinced, and the DS quickly moves to change the subject. 

James falls silent again, preferring to watch and listen quietly as Robbie and Lizzie trade stories about Halloween costumes and parties, avoiding any further ‘shop talk’. He lets himself enjoy the way Robbie’s eyes light up as he talks about his young grandson, and how much he is looking forward to taking him out trick-or-treating in a few years’ time. He even resists the urge to make another teasing comment or two when Robbie says how much things have changed since his day.

Instead, he lifts his smouldering cigarette to his lips in an attempt to cover his fond smile at Robbie’s words. And yes, James is fully aware that perhaps that is something else he should be scared of, right there in his hands.

He should be scared that the damned cigarettes will be the death of him one day, and he certainly knows the risks he’s taking with his health, but he’s never been scared enough to do anything about it. He’s a man of few vices – quality coffee, decent cigarettes, and a good bottle of wine or beer every now and then – and quite honestly he thinks he is entitled to indulge himself, given how hard he works. It isn’t as if he has a whole lot else in his life to live for, apart from the job, and apart from – 

Robbie’s eyes suddenly meet his again over the table as the other man drains the last of his pint, and James feels a familiar stab of longing deep in his belly. 

James has always been scared of letting Robbie down, of being the reason he is hurt – or worse.

He’s scared that Robbie will find out how he feels, how he has felt for so many years now, and that he will lose his friendship and respect for ever.

And at the very same time, he’s scared that Robbie won’t ever know the depth of James’s love for him, for this good and honest man who is by far the best person James has ever known.

He is certainly too scared to take the risk of telling Robbie, though, and so he does nothing, and says nothing. 

He’s so scared he isn’t good enough. How can he ever be good enough for Robbie?

The night is closing around them rapidly now, the last glint of sunlight disappearing beyond the horizon as the solar-powered lights in the pub garden flare to life almost in unison. There are no other drinkers at the tables, though a black-clad bartender is moving around them to turn on the outdoor heaters, and James shivers slightly, finally registering just how much the temperature has dropped while they’ve been sitting here. Winter is just around the corner.

But the laughter of his two colleagues – his friends – pulls him the rest of the way out of his melancholy thoughts, and he sits a little straighter on his chair as Robbie leans closer to Lizzie, as if he is about to impart the world’s biggest secret.

“D’you know, there is something. Can’t believe I nearly forgot.” Robbie lowers his voice dramatically, leaning closer still, and suddenly James knows exactly what he will say. “There is one thing and only one thing I know of that does scare our James.”

Feeling a faint flush of embarrassment already heating his cheeks, James ducks his head to avoid eye contact with the other man, though of course Lizzie already knows. She’d had to save him from an ambush in the car just the other day. 

He’s gotten better over the years. He’s had to – he can’t see any way to be respected as a DI and still run screaming from every eight-legged son of Satan.

This particular one had snuck up on him, though. This one had made him scream in what he still insists was an entirely manly fashion, before he’d fallen sideways out of the open car door in an attempt to escape. Not his finest moment, he’d be the first to admit.

Thankfully no one else had been around, and Lizzie isn’t the type to tease. She’s good, James’s DS. Very good, in fact. He’s scared he’ll get her injured again, or even killed, someday. He’s scared he isn’t good enough to be her boss, a fact he keeps carefully hidden, buried deep alongside his love for Robbie.

Lizzie may not be the type to tease, but she’s also not the type to pass up on a bit of banter in the pub. She catches James’s gaze for a moment, her brow wrinkled in faux-thought, a sparkle in her dark eyes, and a smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. 

“Hmm, let me have a think. How about… spiders?” Lizzie’s voice is triumphant, ringing loud in the quiet garden, and James can only raise his glass in unwilling salute as Robbie barks a laugh. 

It’s the one and only fear James will ever admit to, out loud at least. “Card-carrying arachnophobe,” he confirms reluctantly, before draining the last of his pint with a flourish. “But that’s it, no other fears. Next round’s on me, and then how about we talk a bit about your fears, Ms Maddox? Balloons, I believe?”

James makes his escape quickly as Lizzie starts to protest half-heartedly, his cheeks still burning.

They really do have no idea. 

And if James has his way, they never will.


End file.
